18 March 2007

the boxes have been packed and the truck has been loaded. some guy named dave is already on his way out west with all our stuff. tomorrow, we leave for portland. seven days of driving ahead of us-- seven. whole. days. or maybe more, we've never done this before so we don't really know. and that is the best part of all this: the not knowing, the closing of the eyes and the leaping. tennessee, kentucky, illinois, missouri, kansas, colorado, wyoming, utah, idaho, oregon: here we come.

09 March 2007

the only good thing about those digital photobooths is that they have more space. obviously, or we would not have been able to fit two whole families inside.

truly, the most difficult thing about this whole move out to portland has been the idea of leaving family behind. my brother nate and I always thought our kids would grow up together. the idea that this won't happen (at least, not in the traditional sense), breaks my heart. and as excited as I am for ward, for myself, for my family-- I know that this will be the hardest part. everything comes at a price, everything. even this fantastic adventure.

07 March 2007

I never wanted to stand still so much as right now. I want this part to be over but I know that once it is, we will be gone. I dream of a fast forward button for my own life (doesn't everyone?) but I know that would be the most tragic sort of mistake. to not feel it, not walk through it-- this is what softens the edges of who we are.

sunday was a good day: a big party where the love was overflowing and the important people of our lives came out to dip strawberries in a big chocolate fountain and hug us and say goodbye. thank you, family. thank you, thank you, thank you.

monday was a bad day: not really anything I want to talk about but there was an hour at the end of the day where I sat in the dark and made this. which is funny because I am craving stillness. even in my deep need to be still, I find extraordinary peace in movement.

02 March 2007

I always think of my great aunt louraine around this time of year. she was born on the first day of spring and embodies all things spring-like. she sings little songs with odd melodies and funny words. she wears blouses the color of daffodils and lipstick the color of the pinkest tulips. she takes special notice of birds and little flowers. she charms everyone at the nursing home and still knows how to flirt like a pro (I swear). she is my breath of fresh air.